


Voices

by ro_blaze



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Body Horror, Eldritch Entities Are Not To Be Fucked Up With Okay Kids?, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Good Ganondorf (Legend of Zelda), Hurt/Comfort, Im bad at this, Malice - Freeform, Mild Gore, Protective Ganondorf, Rating May Change, Trauma, Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Needs Therapy, a lot of malice, he's trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_blaze/pseuds/ro_blaze
Summary: A hundred years are a terribly long time to spend alone, and the Goddesses are merciful to their Chosen.Zelda meets a fellow prisoner of the Great Calamity.
Relationships: Ganondorf & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Ganondorf/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Voices

**Author's Note:**

> i'm posting this before i manage to talk myself out of it ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
> 
> but i live for botw zelgan within the calamity, such a good trope
> 
> i might decide to continue this one day?
> 
> BIG THANKS TO [SaltySaph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltySaph) FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA AND ENCOURAGING ME AHHHHHHH 
> 
> uuuh suffer with me i guess?

Inside the Calamity, time is meaningless. 

Zelda stares blankly ahead and urges her feet to move, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. Malice burns and shrivels into nothing beneath her bare feet—only to be replaced the moment she lifts her foot from the cold cobblestone as if it was always there, as if she never touched it. Hyrule Castle echoes with the moans and screams of the entity bound withn its throne room. She has to focus all of her willpower in order to not feel the light-chains pulling on her wrists, to not feel its screams pierce her skull.

She rounds the corner and finds herself once more in the throne room, the seat her father once took bare and rotten, knocked off the dais. It’s wrong—that hallway should have led her to the Great Hall, where they used to hold all the feasts, to entertain guests and laugh with them, but Zelda has long gotten used to the Calamity’s powers. This version of Hyrule Castle is not the Hyrule Castle she knows. And that is… that is okay. She quite prefers this skewed, bastardized version of the once great fortress. Her heart, as weak as it is, can only barely handle the knowledge that the home of her proud bloodline has been defiled like so. She’s not quite sure she can handle seeing its ruin. 

The illusions, if unsettling, at least help her lie to herself. 

The beast roars and rears back against the light-chains holding it still. Zelda isn’t sure when she walked the space from the entryway to the dais, or if she ever walked them at all, but she’s here now. Her hand burns when she lifts it, divine brilliance pouring out of her skin, and she roars back at the beast’s horrible un-face. Then, she shoves her palm into its side and braces herself as its screams of pain echo in her mind. 

The light-chains burn and chafe against her wrists, hot enough to boil the topmost layer of her skin away, and Zelda holds still. When at long last she removes her hand, smoke curling from the tops of her fingers, the beast has calmed once more. Its sounds have quieted, its not-breathing calmed. Many limbs scratch uselessly at the blackened floors, claws and talons and teeth ( _too many teeth_ , she thinks) producing a horrific symphony that makes her hair stand on its end. Dark Malice drips from its many maws like blood. Like saliva. One drop falls on her cheek and sizzles into nothing when it touches her divine-blessed skin. 

The beast is hungry.

Zelda doubles over on the floor, one hand clutching her stomach, and retches.

Tears roll down her cheeks and evaporate in nothing. Acid burns her mouth and her throat. Her lungs squeeze painfully and she cannot breathe. In this cursed version of her castle, there is no natural light. No light at _all_ , save the cursed magenta glow of the Calamity, and the even more cursed glow of her skin, and that at least saves her the shame of facing her many failures.

Zelda wipes the Malice-vomit with the back of her hand. She’s shivering, uselessly gasping for a breath she finds herself unable to hold, black poison dripping from the corners of her mouth as she struggles to pull herself to her knees. The air is suffocating her. The beast stares at her with its many-but-none eyes. The magenta glow brightens and had she any breath, she would have laughed at just how it reminded her of the little nightlight she had by her bed growing up. Had it been capable of feeling, she would have thought it _pitied_ her. 

And then the beast lunges at her.

A scream fills the empty castle hall. The sound is so inhuman that it takes her a solid minute to realize its coming from her own mouth. The Calamity, even when weakened, is more powerful than she can even dream to be, and tackles her into the puddle of her own Malice-vomit. Limbs—paws, hands, hooves, _she doesn’t know_ —grapple and tug and pull and push, many mouths bite at her flesh. Zelda screams again, somewhat distantly catching the echo of her own howls, and desperately tries to claw away from the creature’s deathly grip. Light pours into her palms but it’s not enough, it’s _never_ enough, and she cannot handle the nightmare again— 

“ _Enough_ ,” a voice calls out, rough with disuse but firm, sharp like the edge of a blade.

The beast roars in answer, its many voices blending into one terrific sound. It’s distracting enough for Zelda to pull away, enough for her to shove her hand into the closest eye and _burn burn burn_. There’s a wet squelch, and nausea threatens to bring her to her knees again, but she keeps her ground and grits her teeth and braces herself as the sounds of the Calamity’s pain ring in her ears.

The eye melts back into Malice and Zelda pulls her shaking hand out of the now empty eye socket. Black ooze drips between her fingers and soaks into her long-ruined praying gown, the once snow white linens soiled beyond recognition. The beast is losing its shape in front of her, becoming a goo of nothingness once more, and makes one last attempt to grab her.

A large figure pushes her out of the way at the very last moment and she screams when the beast sinks its black teeth into their bare calf, tearing a large chunk of meat away before melting into the floor and back into its cocoon.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the same voice from before says. A pair of large, warm hands, covered in calloused, settle on her shoulders. “He can’t hurt you while I’m here. It’s okay. I have you.”

Before her very eyes, the torn flesh knits back together—new muscle tissue covering the bared bone, sinew and blood vessels and all, smooth dark skin growing over it. Soon, it looks like nothing has happened, no mark left behind.

Her stomach betrays her once more and Zelda turns to the side, squeezing her eyes shut. A new wave of nausea washes through her and Malice pours out of her mouth, burning her lips and stealing the breath from her lungs. From somewhere far away, she’s aware of the hand gently holding her hair from her face, of the fingers rubbing up and down her spine. 

But _oh_ , how much it burns.

Her choking turns into soft coughs and then into shaky breaths. Gentle fingers reach and brush the poison from her mouth and Zelda lifts her head, her air once again stolen when she meets a pair of glowing golden eyes staring down at her.

 _Oh_.

“Who… who are you?”

The person’s form wavers, like a mirage in a hot day, and they give her a rueful smile. They are a Gerudo, (and oh, doesn’t _that_ hurt?) their scarlet mane long and unbound, their golden eyes shining with a light that nearly matches the one on her hand. Thick sideburns frame their regal face, the beginning of a beard growing over a strong jaw. Their gaze is kind, their mouth drawn into a sad smile, and they playfully tap the tip of her nose before wiping the last of the Malice away.

“Does it matter?” they ask, a peculiar kind of fondness in their voice. “We are the only people here.”

“But you know who I am,” Zelda argues.

The person laughs, a beautiful sound that chases away the shadows of the Calamity around them, and their smile becomes genuine. The corners of their eyes crease when they smile. It’s oddly beautiful, and her heart does a little turn in her chest.

“I suppose you are once again right, Princess,” they agree with a small bob of their head. 

“Just Zelda, please. As you said, it’s only us… And I would prefer to be called by my name, and not a title that is no longer mine.” _And never was, perhaps._ “May I know yours?”

They consider her for a moment, head cocked to the side in a rather endearing manner. Their hands gently brush her hair from her face and tuck it behind her ears, calloused fingers stroking her cheek. There is something familiar in the touch, in their eyes, their smile, but Zelda doesn’t remember ever meeting them in her waking days. 

“My name is Ganondorf,” they whisper, eyes twinkling. She finds she quite likes the sense of security their presence gives her. They offer her a hand and help her to her feet. “Let’s get out of here while we still can. I don’t know how long I will be able to hold this form, but… while I am with you, he won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Zelda has questions, so many questions. But she looks up to Ganondorf, heat spreading over her cheeks when she realizes just how tall they are, and to where their hand is holding hers firmly, and smiles. Together they slip out of the rotting throne room and away from the slumbering Calamity, their warm voice soothing her fears, their fingers keeping a strong grip.

They are nothing but a temporary break from the prison of her own mind, from this never-ending torture. A hallucination, perhaps, caused by inhaling too much Malice, by drowning into this poisonous darkness while waiting for a knight in shining armor who might never come.

But Zelda is going to take them anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit my twitter, [monnydoesart](https://twitter.com/MonnyRancheva), where you can see some fancy zelda art and maybe take a look at my commission. stay safe~


End file.
